


The Best Wine For My Beloved

by iwtv



Category: Fried Green Tomatoes (1991), Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe - Fannie Flagg
Genre: F/F, Gen, Smut, idgie is full of herself as usual, just a short and sweet FGT fic, sexy bible verses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 07:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: “Why don’t you just sleep like that?” she suggested, biting her lower lip and looking at Ruth with nothing but desire. Ruth felt her heart flutter. But she shooed Idgie away.“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled,” Ruth quoted as she picked up the shirt again. Idgie rolled her eyes and collapsed on her back, defeated.“It’s a little late for scripture. Especially in our bed.”--I just rewatched this on blu ray and finished the novel (finally) and I'm a hot mess so I needed writing therapy. Enjoy!





	The Best Wine For My Beloved

**Whistle Stop, Alabama**

****

****

**August 1937**

Ruth heard the commotion outside the café and looked up from wiping the counter.

The sun had started to cast long shadows in the early evening. Business was slow on the hot, late summer day. Sipsey also heard the commotion—two men bickering back and forth. She frowned and threw her rag on one of the table tops she’d been wiping.

“What da hell,” she muttered, looking to Ruth.

Ruth raised her eyebrows as Grady Kilgore and the Reverend Scroggins’ son, Bobby, came into the café blabbering back and forth.

“Miss Ruth,” Bobby spoke up.

Ruth smiled at him. Most people thought all her smiles were charming, but sometimes they came about out of a sense of forced politeness.

“Hi Bobby. Hi Grady,” Ruth said.

“Now Bobby, just hold your horses,” Grady said.

But Bobby Scroggins was shaking his head. He ignored Grady and looked at Ruth. He lifted his arm and flopped down two dead fish on the counter. Ruth jumped a little. Sipsey made a noise and cussed him under her breath.

“I just cleaned the counter Bobby,” said Ruth, eyes flitting from the dead fish up to Bobby, smile still plastered on her face.

“I’m sorry Miss Ruth. But I need to know if that Imogene Threadgoode did this. They’re all over the damn neighborhood. My daddy found one on his front porch! Ask Grady. Grady, tell her.”

Grady sighed rather miserably and nodded in affirmation at Ruth.

“It is true, someone has littered fish corpses all over town. I was tryin’ to tell Mr. Scroggins it’s just a harmless prank…”

“They stink to high heaven in this heat for God’s sake!” Bobby wailed. “If that Imogene is responsible—”

“Idgie,” interrupted Ruth. “She don’t like nobody calling her Imogene.”

Bobby shook his head and tried to calm himself.

“My apologies. If you could tell _Idgie_ not to upset my daddy with her so-called pranks, I’d appreciate it, Miss Ruth.”

Ruth shrugged. “Well I still don’t know it was her, but I’ll pass the word along. Sorry if the good reverend is upset.”

Ruth actually liked Bobby Scroggins, but he and Idgie weren’t exactly the best of friends and hadn’t been since Bobby had moved back to the family home earlier this year. He was an up and coming man of the law, working close with Grady. He was a bit of a complainer but he was sweet. And also the son of Idgie’s nemesis, the good reverend. Ruth thought it was amusing, though there had been a few instances of late in which Bobby seemed far more interested in Ruth than as a new acquaintance. Idgie had picked up on it like a gnat to a jar of vinegar. Consequently she had upped her antics against him.

“Now if you’ll remove your fish from my counter, Bobby,” Ruth said now, tossing him the rag she’d been using, “and clean up your mess, if you don’t mind.”

Humbled, Bobby politely nodded and flashed her an apologetic gaze.

“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry Ruth, I know she’s your friend and all, but she’s so…so…”

“Wild and half-looped, I believe is the phrase you’re lookin’ for,” Grady drolled out from beside him, taking a bite into an apple. Ruth shot him a frown.

After Bobby and Grady took their leave—along with the dead fish, which had certainly began to smell—Ruth finished cleaning the counter and fetched a cup of coffee for one of their three customers, wondering about Idgie.

From the back door of the café her son, Buddy Jr., came flying around the corner. He was carrying a wrapped parcel in his hands that had already been opened. He was grinning and yelling excitedly, with that impish look in his eye Ruth knew too well.

“Buddy, calm down, son. What is that?”

“It’s from Idgie mama,” said the boy, offering up the parcel like a holy grail. Frowning, Ruth cautiously picked open the paper wrapping. The fish smell hit her nose immediately. Another dead fish lay there with a note on top of it. It was in Idgie’s hand writing. It said ‘You’re two hours late.’

Buddy cracked up, though even he had to admit it stunk to high heaven. Ruth ordered him to go out back a long ways from the café and bury it. That way no one would smell it and it would help the grass grow.

“Sipsey, you mind watchin’ the store for little bit?” Ruth asked.

Sipsey smiled at her and shooed at her with her hand. “Go on now, go find Miss Idgie ‘fore the reverend an’ his son start a witch hunt. Though they never find Miss Idgie if she don’ want to be found.”

She chuckled. Ruth tried not to smile.

Ruth left the café and set out towards the river. The dead fish she’d seen were all bluegills. Idgie had shown her some time ago the spot along the river where the bluegills liked to congregate. Fish church, Idgie had called it with a grin, poking fun at Reverend Scroggins even from afar. The place itself was close to where Ruth had told Idgie she’d meet her for a bit before dinner. Her lateness was because she’d gotten held up at the café.

Ruth came to where the bank of the river began to grow steep. There was a small clearing away from the woods there. And there, lying on her back with her head propped up on an old log, was Idgie. Her greenish, worn shorts showed off her tanned legs. The rims of her black boots were caked with dried mud. Her shirt was unbuttoned down her neck, short yellow hair golden and wild in the fading but still bright sun.

“I got your notes. _Both_ of them,” said Ruth.

Igdie raised her head and propped herself up on her elbows.

“Well I sent a note along with Buddy. I don’t know about a second note,” she added innocently. Her eyes followed Ruth with mirth as Ruth sat down beside her.

“Oh, well,” said Ruth, playing along. “That Bobby Scroggins came in the café with Grady, throwin’ himself a little fit over the dead fish his daddy found on his front porch. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.”

“Huh, that’s really somethin’,” Idgie replied. The corner of her mouth was twitching upward. Ruth nudged her with her elbow.

“You’re a public menace, you know that?”

Chuckling, Idgie sat up and spread her arms innocently.

“Do you even see a fishin’ pole anywhere?”

Ruth narrowed her eyes at her. She looked around the grass, then reached behind the log Idgie was resting on. Idgie immediately sat up and grappled with her hands but Ruth was too quick. She plucked the fishing pole from behind the log.

“Well I’ll be damned,” said Idgie. “Look at that. What a coincidence.”

Idgie beamed smugly and Ruth felt her heart swell despite herself.

“How many?” Ruth asked.

“How many what?”

“How many fish did you leave all over town?” Ruth asked with fake exasperation.

Idgie shrugged. “I dunno. ‘Bout ten I suppose.”

Ruth laughed.

“Oh Lord. What am I gonna do with you?”

Idgie bent in and planted a kiss on Ruth’s lips. She pulled back grinning. Her tongue flicked out and licked her own mouth. Ruth huffed out a sigh but her eyes were wondering lovingly all over Idgie’s face. She reached out and pushed back a few strands of yellow hair stuck to Idgie’s cheek, fingers brushing gently. Idgie kissed her again. She cupped Ruth’s face with her hands and deepened the kiss. Ruth felt her chest expand suddenly as she let Idgie’s tongue slip inside her. She pulled away quickly, looking around them.

“Idgie…”

“It’s all right,” Idgie said with a soft laugh. “Ain’t no one else around.”

Idgie fell back on the grass, pulling Ruth over her. Ruth leaned down and kissed Idgie. She let her body press against the younger woman’s, let Idgie’s hands wonder over the sides of her tight dress. Idgie smelled like honeysuckle and sunshine and fresh grass. Ruth never tired of it.

After a few minutes of enjoying Idgie’s attentions Ruth sat up, pulling Idgie up beside her.

“So how mad was Bobby?” asked Idgie, fidgeting with a dandelion stem.

“He’ll get over it,” said Ruth. “It was a bit funny at first, but you’ve got to stop pestering him. Him and his daddy, Idgie,” she added seriously.

Idgie shrugged one of her careless shrugs.

“If he stops pestering you, I’ll stop pestering him,” she replied coolly.

“He ain’t pestering me,” Ruth said as gently as she could. “He’ll learn. He’ll get bored of me soon enough.”

Idgie looked squarely at her. Idgie was very protective of her. Always had been, especially after Frank Bennett. Ruth more than understood, but sometimes Idgie took things a little too far.

“Don’t worry,” Ruth said soothingly. She took Idgie’s tanned and calloused hands in her own soft pale ones. She traced the veins in the underside of her wrist, bending down to kiss it.

“Let’s not ruin the end of the day thinkin’ about Bobby Scroggins, of all people. Now come on. We’ve got an hour before closing time. Let’s clean up and go home.”

*

Ruth and Idgie closed the café for the day without further incident. After dinner Buddy Jr. and Idgie played a game of checkers together, then a single round of Go Fish, which Sipsey chuckled about to no end. Buddy went on about how he was going to tell the whole school in the morning about Idgie’s prank and how he’d been a part of it.

“Maybe just leave out Idgie’s name, son, okay?” Ruth pleaded with him.

“No way!” declared Buddy. “’Sides, everyone will guess it was her anyway!”

“Kid’s got a point,” Idgie shrugged.

Ruth just sighed and rolled her eyes.

After all the house lights were out Idgie slipped into Ruth’s bedroom as she did every night. She wore her usual—a man’s night shirt and a pair of white boy shorts. Ruth put down the book she’d been reading. She loved looking at Idgie like this.

“Do you even own a nightgown anymore?” she asked, full of genuine curiosity.

Climbing into bed next to her, Idgie thought for a minute.

“Nope,” she answered. “The last one Mama bought me for Christmas I just kept so she wouldn’t feel bad. Wore it the night after to make her happy. But I’m pretty sure she knew I’d never really wear it. Didn’t matter though. It was a good Christmas and she liked seeing me in it.”

Ruth regarded her for a long time.

“Trade me,” she said.

“What?”

“Trade me clothes. Right now. I’ll wear that and you wear my nightgown. All night.”

When Idgie saw she was serious she quirked an eyebrow.

“All right. Fine.”

She watched as Idgie got on her knees on the bed and pulled the shirt up and over her head. In the glow of the single candle that was lit Ruth let her eyes take in Idgie’s form. Idgie wasn’t remotely bashful and never had been. She let Ruth drink her in. Ruth loved all her curves, loved how the candle light played softly across her darkened tan lines, her paler breasts.

“You’re awfully beautiful for a boy,” Ruth quipped with a smirk.

That got Idgie blushing and rolling her eyes. But she didn’t say a word as she stood up on the bed and took off her pants. Ruth threw off the covers and pulled the long, thin nightgown off her body. She tossed it at Idgie. Idgie fluffed it out and slipped it on over her head while Ruth pulled on the shorts. Idgie caught her wrist as she started to pull on the shirt, her eyes sweeping over Ruth’s breasts.

“Why don’t you just sleep like that?” she suggested, biting her lower lip and looking at Ruth with nothing but desire. Ruth felt her heart flutter. But she shooed Idgie away.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled,” Ruth quoted as she picked up the shirt again. Idgie rolled her eyes and collapsed on her back, defeated.

“It’s a little late for scripture. Especially in our bed.”

Ruth grinned. It was a polite grin but also quite sly. The only thing Idgie hated more than dresses was being preached at. Ruth never did it to her seriously, but there were times when it was, well, too tempting not to goad her from time to time.

Fully dressed in Idgie’s night clothes, Ruth stood and spun around.

“Well? How ridiculous do I look?”

She shied away as soon as Idgie began appraising her with nothing but loving and lustful eyes. She gave a crooked grin.

“I’d start courtin’ you on the spot if you weren’t already mine,” Idgie said.

Ruth felt her cheeks flush, eyes flitting to the floor for a second. She looked up at Idgie, who was sitting Indian-style on the bed, wearing her cotton nightgown, and some of her shyness dissipated. She giggled.

“Oh no,” said Idgie. She started to crawl under the covers but Ruth grabbed them first.

“No wait! Let me look at you.”

She managed to push Idgie off the bed and onto her feet. Idgie slumped, hands on her hips, trying to look as unappealing as possible. It had the opposite effect.

“You look amazing,” Ruth said slowly, letting the wonder of the sight of Idgie fill her voice. All of Idgie’s curves that she kept hid so well by day were plain to see, right down to her ankles. The cut of the nightgown dipped down perfectly between her breasts. Her shoulders and neck were unbelievably sensual. Idgie looked skyward and let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh brother.”

“Come here,” said Ruth, stretching her hand out.

Idgie took it and let herself be pulled on top of Ruth. Their lips pressed together and Ruth sighed into Idgie’s mouth. She raised her leg and let her thigh press up between Idgie’s legs. Her hands ran along the length of her nightgown that clung so well against Idgie’s skin.

Idgie pushed down the front of her boy shorts on Ruth and slipped her fingers inside.

Ruth let out a breath. Her body seemed to sink further into the mattress, relaxing, as Idgie touched the most intimate part of her. Idgie gazed down at her with lidded eyes, kissing her forehead and then her mouth again.

“Thy navel is like a round goblet which wanteth not liquor,” Idgie whispered in her ear. “Thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.”

Ruth blinked with mild shock, slow grin cracking her face. Idgie’s fingers were too distracting, however, for Ruth to reply properly. She twitched and inhaled sharply. Idgie kissed down her chest and whispered again.

“Thy breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle…”

“Are you really quoting Solomon?” Ruth managed to say with a breathless laugh. The younger woman simply made an ‘mm’ sound. Her mouth locked over one of Ruth’s nipples, fingers going deeper further down below.

“Thy stature is like that of a palm tree,” Idgie said, lips tickling her skin, “and thy breasts like clusters of grapes. I will go up the palm tree and take hold of its fruits.”

Ruth hummed deep in her throat. She wanted to blurt out ‘I love you’ but didn’t. She quickly pulled down the straps to the night gown on Idgie, wanting as much of her as possible. They moved together with an easy cadence, until Ruth felt her whole body throbbing and trembling. Idgie was breathing almost as heavy as she.

Ruth came hard. Idgie let her bury her face into the crook of Idgie’s neck, fingers clamping down over Idgie’s back. Idgie rolled two fingers very lightly between Ruth’s legs, just enough to send small but sharp aftershocks through her body. Then Idgie lay down on her side next to her. She was grinning like a fool.

“Pleased with yourself, are you?” Ruth asked with false ire when she found her voice.

Idgie nodded, not missing a beat.

“I memorized that just for you. Only good book in that damn Bible if you ask me.”

“Idgie Threadgoode!”

“Well I’m only statin’ the facts, Ruth. A nice little piece of love poetry in all that hellfire and brimstone load of—”

Ruth clamped her palm over Idgie’s mouth. But she couldn’t keep a laugh from bubbling out and over her lips. Ruth removed her palm and replaced it with a kiss.

“You are not as charming as you think you are,” she stated.

Idgie’s bright eyes were smiling.

“Yes I am.”

*

The next day after church Ruth was stopped at the door by the Reverend Scroggins. His face was unusually flushed and his moustache was in a bit of a knot, a sure sign he was aggravated as he made a beeline for Ruth.

“Miz Jamison!”

Ruth kept walking.

“Miz Jamison! I need a word with you!”

Beside his mother Buddy Jr. snickered.

“He looks peeved.”

“Buddy you go on ahead. Have Sipsey or Mrs. Threadgoode made you some tea. Go on now.”

Buddy snickered again and did as he was told. Ruth plastered on her most charming smile and turned around to face the reverend.

“Miz Jamison,” Scroggins started, over-pronouncing her name.

“Yes reverend? That was another good sermon today…”

“And as usual I did not see Ms. Threadgoode in attendance. I wonder if it might have something to do with the three unruly young gentleman who showed up at my house last night, sayin’ that someone told them the best liquor in town was to be had at my house, hmm?”

Ruth closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheeks.

“That’s right,” the reverend said. “You tell Miz Idgie I will be expecting her for Wednesday’s service. And if I ever catch her around my property I’ll have my son arrest her. Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great. She has become a dwelling for demons!”

Ruth nodded politely.

“Yes reverend. I’ll pass that along.”

Instead of going home to change Ruth started out towards the river again, heels and all. She was only half-heartedly upset. The little piece of paper tucked into her dress kept making her smile. She’d written it during the sermon. It was, in fact, another bit of scripture and so she reasoned she couldn’t be faulted for not paying complete attention to the reverend for a few minutes.

She found Idgie standing on the other side of the big damn to the widest part of the river, hollering at her.

“Come over here,” Ruth hollered back. “I’ve got something for you.”

Idgie stood on the opposite side, legs braced in another pair of worn shorts, hands on her hips.

“I just got over here,” she yelled back. “You come over.”

“Idgie, I’m in my Sunday best.”

“Come on! Take off them heels and take a walk.”

Ruth sighed and rolled her eyes. Idgie wanted her to walk across the top of the concrete dam.

“Idgie!” Ruth whined loudly.

Idgie beckoned for her.

“What if I fall in this time?”

“I’ll jump in after you.”

Idgie was dead serious, of course. Idgie would jump in to save her without a second’s hesitation.

“You’ve done it before,” yelled Idgie. “Quit actin’ like you’re too high and mighty.”

“Imogene Threadgoode, I swear--!”

Even from this distance Ruth could see her laughing. Muttering to herself, Ruth took off her heels and dropped them on the grass. She took off her hat and laid it between her shoes, hiking up her dress.

The few inches of water that rushed over the concrete made her squeal at first. She briskly strode across it, cold water splashing up to her knees. By the time she made it across she was ready to smack Idgie. But the moment she tumbled into Idgie’s arms it was already forgotten.

“The reverend is ready to hog-tie you or burn you at the stake, you know,” she said.

“Gotta catch me first,” Idgie replied. “So what is it you got that actually made you cross that dam for me?”

Ruth pulled the piece of paper from her dress and handed it to her.

“This is for tonight, if you approve.”

Then without another word she started back across the dam.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

Grinning to herself, Ruth ignored her and kept walking, as cat-like as Idgie ever was across the river.

Idgie read Ruth’s graceful hand writing: _And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak._

Ruth made it back across, finding the water much more agreeable as the sun started to grow hot. She turned around. Idgie was half running across the damn after her, arms stuck out straight to balance herself and looking like a maddened trapeze artist.

“For cryin’ out loud, slow down!”

Idgie didn’t. She nimbly jumped the last couple of feet onto the grass in front of her. Her tanned face was pretty and primal at the same time, eyes burning and smile bright.

“You keep teasing me with this kind of scripture and I’ll become one of those nuns. You can be my house of worship.”

Ruth felt her cheeks grow a little warm, but that didn’t stop her from letting Idgie kiss her.

“You can worship all you want…long as you show up to church on Wednesday.”

“What?”

“You heard me. The reverend has had it. Church on Wednesday, or no more scriptures in bed.”

Idgie looked outright indignant, mouth gaping open.

“Well that is just low, Ruth, real low. That’s blackmail.”

“Uh huh,” Ruth drawled out, batting her eyelashes and smiling. “It sure is.”

Ruth slipped her fingers through Idgie’s as they walked home. Idgie muttered under her breath about the hypocrisy of ‘church folk’ but her hands clasped tightly to Ruth’s. In the distance the shrill cry of a passing train could be heard. The sun was setting as they approached the café, coating everything in a deep golden hue like honey.

Ruth thought back to a conversation the two of them had after Frank Bennett had disappeared. Ruth had suggested leaving Whistle Stop, maybe Alabama. She pretended it was so that Idgie might settle down. I’m as settled as I ever hope to be, Idgie had said. She’d been looking straight into Ruth’s eyes without so much as a blink. Ruth felt ashamed for ever having said it.

Now, as they neared the Threadgoode home, still holding hands, Ruth knew that she was home. But it had less to do with the place than it did the woman next to her.

Unexpectedly she giggled.

“Scripture in bed,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. How about you make me some of them fried green tomatoes for a late supper?”

“I thought you hated them.”

“Well I do. I mean, no. I like them ‘cause you made them.”

Idgie smiled.

“Well all right then.”

***


End file.
